Broken Hearts, Unite
by RasgotraFan
Summary: Possibly a Carla (or Neeter, or whatever you call a Carter - Neela relationship). Two doctors deal with losses in their lives. Please review! This is my first attempt at fanfic, and I want to know what I'm doing wrong (and right!).
1. Default Chapter

"No, don't stop! You can't stop! Help him. Please, God, just save him! No. NO!!! DON'T STOP!"  
  
"Neela. Neela!"  
  
With a startled gasp, Neela Rasgotra sat bolt upright, clutching her hands to her chest. Where was she? Whose hand was on her shoulder? Slowly she came to the realization that she was in the on-call room of the Cook County General Hospital ER. "Oh, Dr. Carter," she said with a nervous giggle, "you gave me a bit of a scare!"  
  
"Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you OK?" John Carter asker, noticing that Neela was a bit shaky.  
  
"Yeah...I...I suppose I was just having a bit of a bad dream," she lied, drying her eyes with the back of her hand. "What's up?"  
  
"MVA, multiple victims coming in. Should be here any minute." He paused. "Are you sure you're OK?"  
  
Neela nodded and glanced at the clock. 12:04 AM. "It's just...well...today's the one-year anniversary of..."  
  
"Dr. Carter! Dr. Rasgotra!" Chuny interrupted. "We need you NOW." With that, Carter took off running, Neela hot on his heels. They arrived in the ambulance bay just in time to meet the first of a long line of patients that would keep the ER swamped for hours to come.  
  
The driver of a bus full of tourists returning from a sight-seeing trip to St. Louis had fallen asleep at the wheel, awakening just in time to see that the bus was veering into the next lane, right toward an SUV. He swerved, but it was too late. After plowing into the vehicle, the bus swung out of control, hit three more cars, and tipped over. In all, nearly sixty people had been injured, and over half were sent to County. Fortunately, there were few fatalities. Most were treated for minor cuts and bruises. A few were admitted with broken bones, concusions, and the like, and one was rushed to the OR with a ruptured spleen. In general, the accident victims had been lucky - all but one family.  
  
The SUV had been carrying a family of five - a young mother and father, and their three little girls, ages six, three, and two months. The two youngest children were DOA, and the six-year-old was pronounced dead after half an hour in the ER. The father, just twenty-eight, had arrived in serious, but stable, condition. After almost five hours in the ER he went into cardiac arrest. Neela began chest compressions, refusing to stop even when she got to the point where her whole body ached.  
  
Susan Lewis entered the room. "Neela..." she began.  
  
"Give him another dose of epi," Neela ordered, "and get someone from surgery in here STAT!"  
  
"We've already called up there four times. They're all in the OR right now," Chuny replied, administering the medication.  
  
"I don't care if you have to go to the OR and drag someone down here by their toes. I need someone here NOW!"  
  
Chuny started to leave but Susan held up her hand. "No, he's been down too long."  
  
"Give the epi a chance to work," Neela pleaded desperately, but Susan shook her head. Neela gave a few more compressions before she slowly came to a stop. By now she was out of breath and drenched in sweat. "Damn it. Damn it.........Time of death, 5:49," she gasped ripping off her gloves and storming out of the room. After taking a moment to compose herself she went to find the man's wife, who had somehow survived the accident with only a lacerated forehead and fractured arm and collarbone - and a broken heart. "Mrs. Sullivan, I'm Dr. Rasgotra. I've been working on your husband," she said softly. "I'm very sorry, but his heart stopped beating and although we did everything we could, the extent of his injuries was too great. We were unable to save him."  
  
The woman stared at Neela, shaking like a leaf. "No, no, that's not true. He can't be dead. I need him. I NEED him. You have to save him!"  
  
Neela rested her hand on the woman's arm. "I'm sorry, there's nothing else we can do. He's gone. I know how you feel..."  
  
The woman pulled away from Neela. "What?" she snapped. "No you don't. You don't know how I feel. You CAN'T know how I feel. You can't."  
  
Neela longed to explain that she, in fact, knew all too well how the woman felt, but this was not the time to feel sorry for herself. This was the young woman's time to grieve. "I...I'm sorry," she stammered, backing up, as the woman's parents and sister tried to console her. "I'm so sorry."  
  
As soon as she was out of the room, Neela ran at full speed until she was outside. Sinking down on a bench, she buried her head in her hands and began to cry. She didn't notice when Carter approached her a few minutes later. "There you are," he said, sitting down next to her. "Susan said she was worried about you." Neela didn't even look up. "I'm sorry about your patient. You did good in there. Did your best. But you can't save everyone."  
  
"Can't save everyone? Apparently I can't save anyone!" Neela shouted, standing up. "A young man and his three babies came in here this morning, and I couldn't save any of them. But I did bloody good." With a cynical laugh, she slammed her fist into the concrete wall. "They died. THEY ALL DIED. AND I COULDN'T DO A DAMN THING TO HELP THEM!!!" With each word, she pounded the wall harder and harder until Carter, noticing the blood, grabbed her arm. 


	2. The Anniversary

"Neela, what is going on with you today?" By this time, he was really worried. He hadn't seen her that upset since..."Oh, God, Neela. August 27th...today's the day Gallant died, isn't it?" Neela just nodded, trying unsuccessfully to hold back another flood of tears. Carter took her in his arms. "Shhhhhh...it's OK," he whispered, stroking her hair, as her entire body shook with the deep sobs. "Everything's gonna be OK." He let her cry for a while before he pulled out his handkerchief. "OK...OK, calm down," he said as she coughed and sputtered. "Keep this up and you'll make yourself sick. Now blow," he ordered, holding the handkerchief to her nose. She did as she was told, and couldn't help but laugh a little.  
  
"Thanks, Dr. Carter. I think I can take it from here," she said with a half smile, taking the handkerchief. "I'll, uh, return it tomorrow."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Carter replied, turning his attention to her swollen, bleeding hand. "You ought to have someone take a look at this. Could be broken."  
  
Neela wiped the blood away with her lab coat. "Naw, it's OK. Just a wee bit sore is all."  
  
"Well, at least put some ice on it," he said, leading her back to the ER just as Abby walked out, on her way home. "You really shouldn't be here like this. Why don't you go home, take a day or two off."  
  
"I can't. I still have half a shift to finish."  
  
"Hey, I can cover for ya," Abby chimed in. She wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but could tell that poor Neela was in no condition to be working. "I could certainly use the money."  
  
"Are you sure? Thanks a million. I owe ya one."  
  
Back in the ER, Carter cleaned and bandaged Neela's hand and gave her some ice. "Can I give you a ride home?" he offered.  
  
"Thanks, but I'll walk. I'm just a few blocks from here," she said.  
  
Neela walked home and curled up in bed, icing her hand and staring at the picture of Gallant that sat on her night table. "Oh, Michael, I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice hoarse, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there."  
  
By the time the ice had melted, she felt a little better. Climbing out of bed, she changed into a t-shirt, running shorts, and sneakers, and jogged to the cemetary where Michael was buried. Sitting on the lush, green grass, she stared at the simple gray stone. "Michael Gallant 1977-2005" she read over and over. It made no more sense to her now that it had a year ago. "Why, Michael, why? I lived up to my end of the bargain," she said, remembering the last conversation they'd had before he left for Iraq. "Why couldn't you live up to yours?" She'd promised him that when he returned, she would be a good doctor. After a bit of uncertainty at the end of her fourth year of med school she figured out what she wanted to do with her life, and was now in the beginning of her third year of residency. But where was Michael?   
  
Then she stopped herself. Poor guy. It really wasn't fair to criticize him so. He had tried his best. 


	3. Memories, and A Soldier's Coming Home

Neela's mind raced with memories of Michael. She'd had a crush on him practically since her first day at County as a med student. As time went on it became clear that the feeling was mutual, but neither acted on it. It was only after she killed a patient, and he lied to cover up her mistake, that they admitted their attraction to each other. "Seems kind of silly now, but out in the bay this morning I was thinking about asking you out," he'd said.  
  
"I was thinking of saying 'Yes'," she had replied before leaving the room in tears. Soon after, Michael made it known that he was being sent to Iraq. At first Neela was furious at him, both for lying and for volunteering to go off to war, but they'd reconciled their differences shortly before he departed. "You'd better come back. You know that, don't you?" she'd asked.  
  
"Yeah, I will. You'd just better be a damn good doctor when I get here." They had sealed their promises with a kiss, and before Neela knew it, Michael was gone.  
  
Neela vowed to keep her promise to Michael, but her plans were nearly derailed just a few short months after he left. A week after graduation from med school, she was in her small apartment wallowing in lonliness. Michael was gone, and her family, who had come for her graduation, had returned to England. One day she began to feel ill. "Probably just a cold or something," she thought, but over the next week she felt worse and worse every day. When she didn't start feeling any better, she went to the ER where she was diagnosed with right-sided heart failure, a long-overdue side-effect of an operation she'd had as an infant to palliate a congenital heart defect. Over the following months she underwent two more operations - one to help strengthen the left side of her heart, followed by one to correct the problem. The ordeal took it's toll on her, in more ways that one. She missed so much work that she was nearly forced to repeat her internship, but fortunately was able to pick up enough overtime at the end that it was not necessary. Adding insult to injury was the fact that she faced the ordeal virtually alone, as almost everyone that mattered to her was an ocean away. Sure, her friends from the ER did their best to lift her spirits during this trying time, and she greatly appreciated their efforts, but they couldn't take the place of her family, who couldn't afford another trip to the States, and Michael.  
  
As Neela struggled with her recovery and tried to catch up at work, depression mounted until she was on the verge of giving up. Then things took a turn for the better when she got a letter from Gallant. At first he'd written to her every week, but gradually the letters had slowed and then stopped coming completely, so the letter was a welcome surprise even before she opened it. She tore the envelope open and scanned what he had written. The letter was short, but she didn't care --- he was coming home!!!  
  
When the date of Michael's return arrived, Neela waited nervously at the train station. She searched frantically for him. Finally, something caught her eye and she couldn't help but stare. There he was. But...it really wasn't him. Rather, it was a shadow of the man he had been. He was so thin, his eyes dull, face expressionless, walking with a limp. He barely managed a smile as she gingerly wrapped her arms around him. "Michael, what's wrong?" she asked. His letters never alluded to what had left him in this deplorable state.   
  
"I don't want to talk about it. Not now." He threw his bag over his shoulder, took her hand, and started to walk away. "So, how've you been?"  
  
"I can't lie...the past year has been hell. But none of that matters. You're here." She hugged him again, but he didn't hug back. "Are...are you OK?"  
  
"I'm fine," he snapped. Neela drew back. He'd never spoken to her like that. As frightening as it was, it only hinted at what was to come.  
  
Sorry it took so long to update! I've been busy with work. Was it worth the wait?  
  
If you're lucky, chapter 4 might be up a bit later tonight. :)  
  
I've been toying with the notion of writing somewhat of a prequel to this story, going into more detail about Gallant leaving, Neela's illness, and Gallant's return. Anyone interested? 


End file.
